


Streaking Lights

by Starlithorizon



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 05:29:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlithorizon/pseuds/Starlithorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos had come to Night Vale looking for answers. A year later, with more questions than answers, he realises that he's become part of the town and that he doesn't mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Streaking Lights

**Author's Note:**

> I got into _Night Vale_ really quickly and really deeply. It's my new favourite creepy desert town. As t is, this is the first fic I've written for it, and it's kind of a mash of character studies and head canons.  
>  Also, it's an outlet for my mild obsession over Cecil and Carlos.

He wasn't sure why he still wore a watch, considering what he knew. It didn't work, but it was a comfortable habit, a worn leather strap and a warm steel disc against skin. He studied the watch on his wrist, the one that had worked before he came to Night Vale, the one that had been taken over by that terrible gelatinous mess afterwards. When he'd discussed it with Cecil, much to the chagrin of the Sheriff's Secret Police, he'd been terrified by what he'd found. But now... 

Now, it was a memory worn around his wrist. A memory of another world, one so much saner than this town. A memory of a phone call made with a blush and heart hammering from more than terror. A memory of a beautiful voice crooning about him like a teenager with a huge crush. He looked at his watch now and smiled fondly.

He still felt incredibly silly for that phone call he made just two months ago. _I'm calling for personal reasons_. Really, it was an absurd thing to say. But then, Cecil had begun to use that _ridiculous_ phrase every time he called, and Carlos found that he absolutely _loved_ it. It was sweet and silken in his mouth. 

The furry pants had been hard to get used to, admittedly, as had the tunic; Carlos was used to Cecil's normal clothes, sweater vest and bow-tie and rolled-up shirtsleeves and all. But, eventually, he _had_ gotten used to it, even if he sort of longed to see what Cecil's "date night" sweater vests might look like. He could happily survive missing out on that facet of Cecil's, though, no matter what he wanted. He would smile through Cecil wearing anything just for the chance to spend time with him. 

He was getting a bit sappy, and he loved it. He loved that Cecil made him feel this way. 

But, getting back to the watch, he glnced at it for the umpteenth time and wondered (also for the umpteenth time) why he wore the thing, expecting it to tell time in a land that time mutely ignored. 

When Cecil finally arrived at the meeting place, though, he knew why. It was directly correlated to the thrumming in his stomach and chest, like sparrows frantic to escape. 

"Hello," the radio host said as he sidled up to Carlos, leaning against the hood of the car. Coloured lights played in above the Arby's, and flashes of brilliance lit up Cecil's face beautifully. He looked fey in the light, with the curves and angles and planes lending shape to something lovely. His soft brown hair, neatly styled with just the slightest wave, brushed against Carlos's cheek as Cecil rested his head against the scientist's shoulder. 

"Hello," the outsider said softly, smiling against Cecil's soft hair. Between the lights and void, stars trembled like freckles in blushing skin. He thought of kind eyes, bluish purple like desert dusk, shining white-hot when emotion tumbled through purplish veins. He thought of a voice like liquid bronze, offering blushing compliments from inches away as easily as over radio waves.

Like everyone and everything in this absurd place, Cecil was extraordinary. However, in a town full of extraordinary people and creatures and inanimate objects, it turned him into something resembling normal, while Carlos became the strangest among strangers. He was used to being a bit different, awkward and thoughtful as he was, but he had never been _special_ before. 

And it was strange and lovely how fiercely loyal to their radio host Night Vale was. Everyone loved Carlos because Cecil loved Carlos. 

Carlos wasn't sure if he loved Cecil yet, but he was happy as he was, especially right now, Night Vale's voice warm and content at his side. 

"What's it like out there?" Cecil asked softly, face bleached nearly white as the lights in the sky played on. "Beyond Night Vale?" 

"Isn't that illegal?" Carlos joked, curling an arm over his date's shoulders. 

There was a long pause before Cecil murmured, "You're right. I forgot. That was silly of me." And there it was, the thing he was fast becoming accustomed to, the illegality of nearly everything in this town, from wondering about the outside world, to reading magazines after ten o'clock at night. He'd come for the opportunity to study this bizarre place, and while he wanted to say that he was just staying for Cecil, that would be a lie. He was a part of this town now. The Ralph's was his grocery store, he got junk mail to his apartment above the rented lab, he never got closer than five hundred feet to the dog park... 

He'd never really had a proper home before. Perhaps Night Vale was meant to be his biggest adventure yet, and while Cecil was at his side, he couldn't possibly be happier about it.


End file.
